Gimme Shelter
by Borderlines
Summary: The mind and heart of Isabella Masen have been shattered too many times for her to trust anymore. And then there's her therapist, Dr. Cullen. When her sheltered mind is opened to the mysterious doctor, can her healing finally begin? AU.
1. Prologue

**Gimme Shelter**

"_I'm not angry. I'm not afraid. I'm not anything."_

**A/N **Yikes, this is my first Twilight-fanfiction in a very long time so I would love to hear your comments. (:

**Disclaimer** All the characters recognized from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Shattered_

"Do you have any thoughts concerning this therapy?"

It was twenty past six and the sun was yet to rise over the high buildings of Seattle. The office building Dr. Cullen had converted into his own private clinic was located in a relatively quiet part of the town and the noises of the traffic and people walking down the street weren't going to truly start in over an hour or so. I liked the silence, the peace, and for some reason, I also liked the darkness. It was soothing for me, it almost made me feel secure. It was the main reason I had decided to come this early.

"Not really." What was there to say? My head was too full and yet too empty. There wasn't anything important to say. I could talk endlessly about my feelings and the demons of my past but that wouldn't really help me. That wasn't my problem and that certainly wasn't what got me here.

"Do you have any thoughts concerning your emotions?"

"I..." And again, what could I say? How could I explain it? It was all there but again it wasn't. It was just too confusing for others to understand. "I don't think I have emotions at all." It wasn't all true, but it was closest to the truth and I just couldn't explain it any better. I could see he didn't understand what I meant just by looking into his amber-coloured eyes. "What I mean is, I do have some superficial emotions, like embarrassment or amusement, but I cannot _feel_. I do not love or hate. I'm not angry. I'm not afraid. I'm not anything."

"I understand." And this time, I could see he really did. The look in his eyes was something I had not seen in a very long time – it was concern. I couldn't say I wasn't a little surprised by that – this was after all our first session – but somehow it felt good to know someone was even just a little bit interested about your life, that someone cared just a tiny bit. "I know you have been through a lot, Isabella, but this therapy is supposed to make you feel better. I am not going to lie to you – in order to feel better you have to go through those things again, and that might and almost certainly will be painful." When he saw my face go pale, his face took a very reassuring, calming look. "I am not going to rush you to do anything and I will not force you if you do not wish to do something. We will take our time with this and you will come back as many times as you need to get better."

"Okay." I know it sounded really dull, but I just couldn't find anything else to say. "Thank you for taking me this early, I'm really sorry if you had to come in ahead of time." I would have chosen the evening instead of the morning, but Emmett – my charming sister-in-law's husband – had insisted on me coming here early before I could do anything suicidal. He could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. And I wasn't suicidal. I didn't _care _about hurting myself. I was just...well, honestly saying, currently I was nothing. I was empty.

"It's okay, I'm an early riser", he said with a suddenly amused smile on his face. "And I happen to know Emmett and know he meant only well by getting you here early. But, as I now see, there was clearly no point to that." His face changed to reflect worry – and curiosity? "I tend to believe that everyone must feel _something_, and I believe you have gone through so much pain and agony that your subconsciousness is simply protecting you from your emotions, preventing you from feeling that distress. What I'd like to do over the next few months is to go over the events that caused your mind to come this shielded. We will go as fast or slow as you like and if you do not want to continue, I will understand that." Again, he was telling me we would not have to rush with my memories and I could easily quit this whole thing if I wanted to. If it only was that easy.

"No, I want to do this", I told him. "I...I'm just not sure how it will affect me. I've already been shattered once. I don't want it to happen again." I was ashamed to admit that, admit that someone had actually sneaked into my heart, manipulated my mind and then crushed everything without mercy. It was just humiliating to realise you actually were just a silly human being, easily fooled and even more lightly forgotten.

Somehow it seemed like he found my words very hard to hear. "I will be there for you for the hard times, I promise that", he said to me with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Nobody is going to do you any harm anymore. This is the time for you to forget and to move on."

And so I started to pick up the pieces.

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><p><strong>AN** Liked it? Review it. Hated it? Review it. Still looking for beta. Want to be one? Let me know.


	2. It's Not Easy

**A/N **Ugh. Okay. I know what you're thinking. It doesn't normally take this long for me to update. Seriously. I'm really, really sorry for the delay. And about the chapter – it didn't really go as I originally planned, so I would love to hear your opinions.

A big hug, many kisses and million thank yous to **seza3175**, **Carlisles gurl **and **Quele Rose** for your reviews, you made my day with them. Those of you who put me/my story to your alert lists and/or favorites also deserve a thank you, so hugs to you, too.

**Disclaimer** All the characters recognized from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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><p><strong>First Chapter<strong>

_It's Not Easy_

It was raining. Again.

Sounds of the rain dropping onto the roof echoed in my empty apartment, making the storm sound ten times more worse than it really was. A normal person would've probably been really annoyed with the noise, but I didn't really care. It was kind of funny, actually. I was a basic example of a depressed person, just floating through the day without really noticing anything. It would have been a nice way to live, if it wouldn't have been so...empty. So full of nothing. And still, all I really wanted to do was to lie in my bed all day long. Or the mattress, as I didn't really have a bed.

The apartment didn't really help with my tries to be more cheerful. It was a small one-room flat with grey walls and mud-coloured wood floors. And, as I hadn't felt any desire or need to unpack the cardboard boxes that held my furniture and personal belongings, it was not furnished and full of those ugly, brown boxes. So yeah, maybe someone would have something to say about it, something that included the words "depressing" and "dreary."

It didn't really help that I had been avoiding the calls of my friends and family. Renée had called at least nine times in the past three hours, but I had no desire to talk with her. She was probably too busy anyway, with her family and whatnot, and I didn't want to bother her with my silly problems. Then there was Charlie with his six calls, but that would be just too awkward for both of us. Emmett, Rose and Jacob had also called, and as I didn't have any good excuses for not talking to them, I just put my phone to mute and pretended I didn't see their names flashing on the monitor. Yes, I was a coward.

I didn't really know _why _I didn't want to talk to them. Maybe I just didn't want to lie to them, be all cheery and happy. On the other hand, had I been my real self, the weird, lifeless and depressed person, they would have been all worried and probably asked me questions about the therapy. Not so surprisingly, it was not on the top three of things I wanted to discuss with people. Too bad they didn't really care about my opinion.

It had been two weeks since I had first seen Dr. Cullen. It hadn't been so bad at the first time, mostly because he asked just simple questions about my life. The second session had been the one I really didn't like. That time the questions had been more personal, more difficult to answer.

"You mentioned that you had a troubled marriage," he had said about fifteen minutes after we had started. Up until then he had asked only easy questions, something about my daily habits and stuff like that. Somehow, I had came to mention my husband. "Do you want to tell me more about it?"

"Edward and I, we were, erm, really...different from each other." He nodded slightly, motioning me to go on. "He was really temperamental, and I am really stubborn, so we fought sometimes." That was the understatement of the year.

"You are talking about him in past tense."

I was caught off guard by his question. "I...yes, I guess I am."

"Why?" His brows had raised lightly.

"Well, uh..." He could clearly see my uneasiness, which made me feel really uncomfortable. I wished I would have a better poker face, like Rose. She could say the sky was purple and sound like she was telling the absolute truth.

"Do you believe he's dead?"

I really didn't like this. "He might as well be."

"Do you wish him to be dead?"

He had got to be kidding. "No! Why would you say that?"

"Because I can see the bruises on your skin," he answered, his voice now completely serious, his eyes watching me with worry. I was completely dumbfounded, just staring at him without even knowing what emotion my face showed.

"And since the bruises are still yet to heal and he has been gone for over six weeks now, I would guess he put quite a force into those blows." His voice was now soft, showing the same worry as his eyes did.

"You have no right to-"

But he cut me off. "Isabella." His expression changed again. Now he was trying to calm me down, which he did quite effectively. There was something in his voice you just couldn't ignore. "I know that this is a really hard subject for you to talk about, but you need to do it."

"I don't want to – I _can't _talk about it."

"That's why we're here," he said with a comforting smile on his face. "You don't have to talk about it now, but we are going to get there." After a brief pause, he changed the subject. "To get back to the real topic, do you feel that he really is gone?"

This time his question seemed a lot more easier to answer. "I don't know. It feels like...it feels like he doesn't exist any more. At least to me, I mean. I think Rose feels the same. She is his sister, after all. But no, I don't think I believe he's dead."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know." That was a lie. I knew exactly why.

"Could it be because you love him?"

Yep. "Maybe."

He smiled at me, going back to those easier subjects we had discussed at the beginning.

We talked about my family, although briefly. We talked about my friends, my relationship with Rose and how it might have changed after Edward's disappearance, my mom's new husband, Phil, and their newborn twins, Austin and Alison. We also talked about Charlie, although there was not much to talk about. We saw each other every other year, usually at Thanksgiving or Christmas, and that was pretty much it.

I found myself talking about things I had never mentioned to anyone. Maybe it was because he was a shrink and trained to make people talk to him, or just because he was charismatic and courteous enough to make me feel at ease, but I talked with him about the things I hadn't felt like discussing with my friends and parents. In retrospect it was weird, because I didn't really even know him that well to trust him with those things.

I didn't really feel any different when I left his office. I was a little disappointed by that, although I knew that it would take time to get to the real problems. I did notice that my mind seemed more clear – it was like a burden had just been lifted off my shoulders. I guess that's how people felt when they told their secrets to someone. It made me kind of proud of myself. Maybe because of that I actually gave Emmett a proper answer instead of just mumbling something when he asked how it went. From the corner of my eye, I could see him smile as we drove off.


	3. Look What the Cat Dragged In

**A/N **Yes, you are seeing correctly. I did update this fast. I got a weird writing frenzy last night and this was the result of it.

Again, thank you for my lovely reviewers, **seza3175 **and **Quele Rose**. You make me do a little happy dance every time you write.

Thank you also to all of you wonderful people who put me/my story to your favorites/alert lists.

Now I'm gonna take a little time to be evil. In the hopes of getting you people who are hiding behind your screens to come out of your hidey holes I decided that if you leave a lovely (or not so lovely) review on this chapter (or the ones before), a little teaser of the next one will arrive to your PM box before it's published here. Fun, isn't it?

There is a little mention to _Interview with the Vampire _at the beginning of this chapter. If you have not read it, ignore it. It's not much of a spoiler anyway (if at all).

**Disclaimer** All the characters recognized from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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><p><strong>Second Chapter<strong>

_Look What the Cat Dragged In_

"Izzy? Are you here?"

I jumped at the voice. It had been completely quiet for hours now, the traffic on my street being almost non-existent. I was curled up in a blanket, reading _Interview with the Vampire_ (I wasn't really into vampires, but hey, who hadn't read that book at least once?) in candlelight. I had just got to the part where Lestat's father was dying when the opening of the door of my apartment had interrupted me.

"Those things can easily start up a fire, you know", Emmett said observing my candle, which was dangerously close to the mattress and slowly melting away, dropping stearin on my floor. The amused look on his face – which probably was there because of my startled expression – quickly changed to dismay, then exasperation when he looked around him. Apparently, he wasn't all that pleased with my decoration (well, the lack of it).

"What the hell, Izzy? You said you finished furnishing weeks ago!"

"Yeah, well, I lied," I said, lowering my gaze back to the book. "What do you want, Em?"

He frowned, walking into the empty kitchen. "Dr. Cullen called. He said you didn't go to the session yesterday and asked if everything was okay." He was now opening the cabinets in the hope of finding a cup (I had put the coffee machine – the only thing I actually needed – to the kitchen table, and it was full of fresh coffee).

"Why did he call you?" I asked, raising my eyes back to him. "I'm not a child. I can take care of my own business."

"Oh, I don't know," he answered with a dry tone while pouring coffee, having finally found his cup, "maybe he thought that something might have happened to you? You know, you don't have to be that clever to notice your clumsiness. Or the fact that you've been living like a damn zombie for the last few months."

"Why does he even care? It's not like I have been going there for that long."

"Because he's like that", Emmett answered, now examining my many boxes and reading the labels on them. "With everyone, even strangers. And I kind of made him promise that he would make you better again."

"You make it sound like I'm half-dead. It's not like it's cancer, Em."

"Well, it could be with the way you're acting. You just...you just lie there like there's nothing else in the world to do! You could go out, see people. Move on."

He had crossed the line. I saw he had noticed it, too, by the look on his face, but it didn't really help at this point. Edward was a forbidden subject. "I'll do what I want whenever I damn well please, thank you very much. Now, get out of my apartment."

"Just go to the third session, please. It's tomorrow." He turned to the door, taking a few steps before stopping again. "Maddy's been asking for you. It's been a while since you last saw her. She misses you."

Oh. Great. The whole "my daughter is sad because you are being a crappy aunt" subject which, almost every time, ended up in me going to his house and staying there for a couple of days being the babysitter.

"Fine. I'll come by tomorrow."

He grinned mischievously before leaving the apartment.

- x - x - x -

The McCarty residence was in one of the residential neigbourhoods surrounding Seattle. The area they lived in wasn't exactly cheap to live in, but much more quiet and safe than most of the others. It was the kind where you could see children playing on the pavement and women making sure their gardens were perfectly trimmed and beautiful.

I had always thought Emmett and Rosalie's house was really pretty – it wasn't one of those traditional homes, but a bit more modern with the beige concrete walls and the black tile roof that made up the house. Green vines grew up the front of the building, making it blend in with the garden around it. It was designed entirely by Rosalie, who had been real strict with the way the builders did things. At the time, I had thought it really amusing.

Now, of course, there was no one in it. Rosalie and Emmett were at work – they were both chefs at The Hale, a fancy five-star restaurant Rosalie's family owned – and Madison was at her grandparents (Rosalie's parent's were really humourless and strict and I doubt Maddy saw them that often, but the McCarty's were really nice people), from which she would return in an hour or two. So, it would be just me. Alone. In a big, empty house. Fun.

Usually when I was babysitting Maddy I cleaned, but today I wasn't really feeling up to it. Instead, I sneaked around the house like a criminal, looking into drawers and stacks of magazines in the hope of finding a letter or a note from Edward. I was getting kind of obsessed with his disappearance (which really was about a man getting bored with his life and taking off so it really wasn't a disappearance), but I think that's how normal wives would get after a few weeks. Sadly, there wasn't anything to found. Edward hadn't been all that close with Rose, who, being born a year before him was the heir of the Mason legacy (which made it sound like they were filthy rich – that wasn't true, they were just unbelievably rich).

I gave up very soon. With the lack of stuff to do I retrieved to the kitchen and started to make food for Maddy, who would be hungry from the four hour flight from Tennessee to Washington and probably grumpy with the hour of driving before and after that. Luckily, he was travelling with his uncle Elliott who had came from New York to visit his parents before a business trip to Vancouver. His wife and kids had also flown to Tennessee to visit the elder McCarty's, but weren't coming with him to the trip (it's funny how much you know when you listen to what other people are saying). Apparently Maddy would've also liked to stay with her cousins, so I was about to get a really angry child to entertain.

I started to make meatballs and mashed potatoes, Maddy's favourite. I put the oven to 390 degrees and the water boiling, after which pealed the potatoes and into the pot. Then I started to make the meatballs: not exactly my favourite part, as I didn't like touching the raw meat with my hands. I rolled the meat into tiny balls, put the balls in the oven and finished the mashed potatoes. Now I was all ready for the grumpy child.

While I waited for the meatballs to cook I made sure Maddy's favourite DVDs and toys were ready for her. She was almost spoiled by her adoring dad and loving mom, who made sure she had all the nicest things around her, and she really didn't like it if things didn't go her way.

Maddy arrived with her uncle just after I got the meatballs out of the oven. As I had assumed, she was tired and grumpy and hungry. After a quick exchange of words with Elliott (he had to go before he missed his plane, so he didn't stay for coffee) I closed the door and went to the kitchen to feed Maddy. She was very pleased to see her favourite food (although I think she would have been pleased to see any food that wasn't the kind she'd got in the airplane) and dug in pretty quickly. I smiled while she told all the things she had done with her cousins; she really was such a lively child.

"...and we went to this big house and Tommy showed me all the horsies in it and they were really pretty! Do you think mommy would get me a pony if I asked, auntie Ellie?" I thought that it was kind of cute when she called me auntie Ellie: no one else called me Ellie, so it was kind of our thing.

"I don't know, Maddy, you should ask her," I answered with a smile on my face. "Although if you really,_ really_ want the pony, you should ask your daddy. I'm sure he would say yes, but only if you ask him many, many times to show him how much you want it." I grinned when I thought the look on Emmett's face when Maddy would jump up and down in front of him, asking the same question again and again non-stop for many days, no matter what his answer was. The revenge was sweet.

Somehow it was easier with Maddy than the others. I think it was because she was a cute little girl who couldn't stop babbling, but I felt much more happy and relaxed around her than I usually would be. Even now, when she wasn't even talking to me but just playing with her dolls and toys, I found myself smiling while I watched her happy little face.

Rose and Emmett would be coming home at five so I could make my appointment, so I started to clean at about four-thirty. They came about half and hour later, just after I'd finished cleaning, and Maddy ran straight up to her daddy.

"Daddy! Daddy! I saw pretty horsies in grandma's and grandpa's and I saw pretty ponies, too! Could I have one, daddy? Could I have a pretty pony?" She was jumping up and down now, with an angelic look on her face. Emmett looked startled for a while, after which he turned to look at me with a murderous face. I smiled at him innocently, which replaced the face with a surprised look. Then he had to look back to his daughter, who was still asking the same question about the pretty pony.

- x - x - x -

It had just started to get dark when Dr. Cullen let me into his office. Emmett had waited with me in the waiting room just in case I decided to run, so I really had no other choice than to get through with it.

It didn't take that much time (actually, he spoke almost immediately after I had sat down) for him to say the obvious.

"You didn't come to the last session."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

"I just didn't feel like coming."

"Why did you come today, then?"

"Emmett made me."

"It's good you have friends like that, even if it doesn't feel that nice right now. You should keep them around."

Gah. I hated when people told me what to do with my relationships. "Okay." Did I sound annoyed? I hope I didn't.

He just smiled at me.

"I assume you are not ready to talk about your husband?"

You assumed right. "No, I'm not."

"Very well, then. Today I'd like to talk about your family."

I thought we were trough with that. "I thought we already talked about them."

"Yes, we did. Now I'd like to do that again."

Well, obviously. "What about them?"

"The relationship with your mother. She's been married for a while now, and she just got children with a man other than your father. How does that make you feel?"

"It's fine. I'm glad she's happy."

"But are you happy?"

That was the question I never asked. It was selfish to think about yourself in situations like that. If Renée was happy, why shouldn't I be, too?

"I don't really think that it matters."

"It matters to me."

"Well, maybe I'm not happy. But it's her life, not mine."

"But you are part of that life, and it's normal for you to have an opinion. Now, why do you think you're unhappy with your mother?"

"I-" I still didn't like this. "She doesn't have time for me any more." Now I just sounded like a whining child.

"Then you should ask her to make time. Just a few minutes on the phone with you, maybe a visit here and there. I'm sure she could handle that."

"I don't know. I don't want to bother her."

He tilted his head a little, watching me with a strange expression. "Are you usually like that with people?"

"Like what?"

"You don't want to bother them and if you do, you feel selfish for doing that. You think you are not allowed to have feelings in certain occasions."

"Ah, I guess so."

"That has to stop now. You are in a very difficult situation right now and you are not going to get through it without the help of your friends and family. Don't be afraid to ask for their help, to talk to them about this. Not the most difficult subjects, if that feels too hard for you, but just talk to them. Be around them."

I stared at him for a long time, thinking about his words. Could I do that?

"Okay." I think I was still staring.

He looked at me like he wasn't sure I had understood, but changed the subject.

The other members of my family were pretty normal, so there wasn't much to discuss. Still, it took the rest of the session to get through them, and I was glad when he said the time was up.

"You seem happier than the last time," he said when he was seeing me to the door.

"I do?" I looked puzzled for a while, realizing the reason just a few seconds after. "Well, I've been with my niece today. I always feel easier around her."

He smiled at me, opening the door. "It was nice that you came, Isabella. The next session is on next Thursday, and I'd appreciate it if you came."

"I will," I said, not sure if I really meant it. I said goodbye to him and got out of the office. Emmett was waiting at me near the door, reading a women's magazine. When he heard me coming, he quickly put the magazine back to the stand, pretending like he hadn't ever picked it up.

"Emmett, could I talk with you for a while?"

I looked back to Carlisle, who's eyes were now at Emmett.

"Uh, sure." Emmett seemed surprised. He walked to the door of his office and I heard them talking for a while (of what, I don't know – they were whispering through the entire conversation). After the conversation was over he came back to me, starting to guide me to the elevators.

"What was that about?" I asked with my brows slightly raised.

"Oh, nothing", he said with a smile on his face. "He just thought you'd be happier if you'd stay with us for a while."

"Oh. Okay."

"It's okay, you know. For you to stay with us for a few days. If you want, I mean."

"I guess I could."

He grinned at me, putting his arm around me with a brotherly squeeze.

"You can room up with Maddy. I told her aunty Ellie is going to buy her a puppy if she asks really nicely."


	4. I'm Moving On

**A/N **I'm making no excuses. I was terribly lazy with this chapter and it's unbelievably late. I am so, so sorry. Please don't kill me.

Thank you to my lovely reviewers **hnwhitlock2000**, **Quele Rose**, and **seza3175**. You're the best. I'm sorry you didn't get the teaser earlier, I had problems with my internet connection (lol, again with the excuses...).

If you review this chapter (or the others) you'll get a little teaser of the next chapter before it's published!

Anyways, here's the third chapter. Enjoy! (:

****Disclaimer** **All the characters recognized from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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><p><strong>Third Chapter<strong>

_I'm Moving On_

Christmas was closing in on me, and I had no idea how I was going to manage it. I hadn't had any time to buy the presents or decorations and I had no idea what I was going to cook on Christmas Eve, when Rose and Emmett were coming by. It really didn't help I was a lousy cook and not really interested in spending my whole day in the kitchen. I also wasn't much of a Christmas person, which probably radiated from me like I was wearing a neon shirt blinking the words "I Hate Christmas". Thus, I really didn't know how I was going to manage.

Luckily I'd made my apartment look a bit more humane with a little paint and proper furniture. Almost all of the cardboard boxes were gone and the walls were now a lovely colour of steel blue. In addition of getting a new bed I'd also gotten a TV, a couch, a dining room table with four chairs and some necessary kitchen and bathroom supplies. Emmett had been really helpful with the furniture – he's as strong as two or three normal guys and can basically carry an entire couch by himself – and I was truly thankful for Rose, who'd helped me pick out the furniture. Now I didn't have to crash on their couch any more, a fact I was truly grateful for.

My newly found solitude was relaxing and peaceful and I'd dedicated a good portion of my day to my new edition of Dracula. Emmett was constantly teasing me about my reading habits, but I found that replacing the real world with the ones in books I could escape my problems for a few hours, actually be happy for just a moment. I knew Carlisle probably wouldn't like the fact I was hiding from my issues, but right now I just didn't have it in me to care. His eternal wisdom aside – the man was like a damn fortune cookie – he was driving me insane with all of these forms asking me about my life and habits (I swear one of them had at least 250 questions in it, all of them uncomfortable and hard to answer). I could also swear he was getting more handsome every day – a fact I'd noticed after our last session together – which made concentrating in what he said really hard.

Little by little, my interest in men had came back. It was comforting to know the therapy was helping, no matter how slow the recovery was. Dating was still out of the question, but at least I could be at ease around people without the constant thoughts of how they could turn out to be like Edward. The downside? I was starting to notice how handsome the people around me were. With Carlisle it was kind of obvious, but the real surprise had been my next door neighbour, Jacob.

We'd first met two weeks ago at the nearby café. I hadn't recognised him at first (truthfully, I didn't even know he was my neighbour), but he didn't seem to be too upset about it and had even offered to buy me a cup of coffee after identifying himself and reminding me of how we knew each other (apparently we'd met in the laundry room of our building, which I didn't remember at all). Our little chat had quickly turned into a long conversation about the things we liked and the stuff we hated, and after a while I'd noticed how much we had in common. We were both from Washington (although he actually grew up there whereas I was raised in Arizona), we both hated the rain, we both liked to read, neither of us was much of a cook and we both shared a mutual feeling of hatred towards Christmas. I couldn't help but wonder if he was my soulmate after he'd expressed how much he hated Jersey Shore and Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

After that we'd talked a few times over the phone and the internet (thank God for Facebook). He hadn't been able to meet me face to face with the business of his car repair shop being really busy at this time of the year. Luckily, he had this weekend off and was coming to have dinner at my place. I was relieved he knew about my mediocre cooking skills, because now I didn't have to disappoint him with my spaghetti bolognese. It was basically the only recipe I knew how to do without burning the food or making some kind of other mistake, which was really a miracle considering my constant clumsiness.

When the clock turned to five past four I abandoned my book and proceeded to the kitchen. I cut up the vegetables, put them on the stove and left them to stew properly, after which I added the meat to the vegetable mixture and waited for it to cook. When the whole thing was ready I mixed in the tomato sauce (I cheated a little and bought a can from the store instead of making it myself) and the wine and left it to simmer for a few hours.

While waiting for the sauce to be done I cleaned up the dining area, set the table and changed into something more appropriate than sweatpants and a hoodie. I also put the water on the stove with the tagliatelle, waiting for it to soften. Now I was all set for our little dinner.

The doorbell rang just after I'd gotten the food on the table. I hurried to the door with a smile on my face, already excited of the interesting conversation I was sure we were going to have. I knew it was foolish to feel this way after only a few weeks, but I couldn't help it. There was something in him that made me feel at ease around him, something that made me feel completely safe when he was around.

After making sure the visitor was the quest I was expecting, I removed the metal door chain and opened the door.

"Hi, Jacob. Come on in."

I wasn't sure if I was just making it up, but I could swear I saw his face lit up the minute he saw me.

"Hi, Bella," he said with his husky voice full of enthusiasm. "It's nice to see you again. I'm really sorry we couldn't do this earlier," he continued after giving me a quick hug.

"It's fine," I said, closing the door after him. "I know you've been really busy. And besides, you're here now."

"Well, yeah. It's no excuse, though. A true gentleman should always always be there when needed. Like when the lady is completely lost with Christmas presents and what to cook on Christmas Eve. Although, I've got to say you've managed quite well with the decorations." He then took a better look at my apartment, looking more skeptical every second. "You did all this?"

"Why, thank you for believing in my décor skills," I said with mock annoyance. "You're right though, it was Rose who got this place to look like this. I just nodded a few times here and there and paid the bill afterwards. Like it?"

"It looks amazing," he said with a kind smile on his face. From the tone of his voice I could hear he was sincere with his praise. He examined the fine furniture a while longer, clearly thinking that Rose was a miracle worker. Then he turned back to me.

"I hate to be rude, but I'm starving," he said with a slightly apologetic look. "Can I take a better look around after the dinner?"

I grinned at his words; it was the same with Emmett. Men were apparently always hungry. "Sure. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I get the wine?" I guided him to the table and left to get the wine.

He got up and pulled me a chair when I got back, an act I was surprised to see him do. I tried to hide my surprise and sat down after giving him a smile.

"This looks great," he said after returning to his seat. "I thought you said you were a lousy cook."

"I am," I argued. "This is the only food I know how to do without messing everything up."

"Yeah, right," he laughed. "If you could only see me cooking. Or more like trying to cook; my skills are just enough to get the bacon and eggs right without burning them up."

That, of course, lead into a fascinating conversation about our cooking skills and how I really was a decent chef although I stated otherwise. It didn't take too long for the topic to change, and soon we found ourselves talking about the pros and cons of Schindler's List. Talking to Jacob was easy and didn't make me feel uncomfortable like usually when I talk to people. It was kind of a miracle, really, that I could be this comfortable around him considering my usual people skills.

He stayed after the dinner and helped me do the dishes (it's fascinating how something as dull as doing the dishes can be fun when you have the right company). After we were finished he suggested a movie to watch and hurried to get it from his apartment, leaving me alone for a moment.

Jacob's search for "the greatest movie of all time" (as he liked to call it) took a bit longer than he'd realised – men and their forever disorganised apartments – which left me a bit of alone time. I sat on the couch, kicked off my shoes and made myself comfortable, sipping my wine and enjoying the silence. My moment of complete relaxation was however short-lived and was brought to a quick end by my cellphone, which decided to ring after a few minutes of that silence. I didn't recognise the caller ID, so I answered with a bit of hesitation.

"Isabella." He sounded really relieved to see me answer.

"Carlisle?" I'm sure I sounded as puzzled as I was. "It's nearly 1AM. Why are you calling me?"

There was a short silence. "I'm really sorry, I didn't realise it was that late. Your tomorrow's session was moved to next Tuesday and I just thought I should let you know."

"...Okay? Thanks for informing me." I was still as puzzled as before. "I'm sorry, but I really got to go now," I continued when I heard Jake knocking on my door. "See you next Tuesday?"

"See you then. Have a pleasant weekend." He hung up before I could say anything else.

With a baffled expression I went to open the door. What a strange man this therapist of mine was turning out to be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN2 **Any guesses why Carlisle was acting so weird? Leave a comment!


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